Kurt gets into a routine over the next few days: he gets up early, stops by Cooper’s flat to feed Becky and clean out her litter box – he would take her with him, but pets aren’t allowed in his building and the landlady, Mrs Kiehl, is allergic and would find out in a matter of hours – then he goes to work, and after work he visits Cooper and Grandma before he goes home. Sometimes he brings heart-healthy takeout with him and he and Grandma eat dinner together and gossip about the other patients, or Grandma will tell him stories from when Cooper was little. Those days are the best.
It’s been going on for about a fortnight when, one day, Kurt enters Grandma’s room to find all the Andersons there, as well as an unfamiliar woman. She is stern and fierce-looking, with iron grey hair and sharp, beady eyes, and she looks Kurt up and down before exclaiming:
“Well hel-lo darling! Are you the new doctor? Because then I definitely need a check-up.”
She throws him a saucy wink and eyes his chest with interest.
Kurt is speechless, paralysed just inside the door, but Veronica Anderson comes to his aid, slapping the woman on the arm and sending Kurt an understanding smile.
“Cooper didn’t warn you about his mad auntie Sally, did he?” she asks in a gentle voice.
Kurt shakes his head, still not trusting his voice not to go embarrassingly squeaky.
“Sally, this is Kurt Hummel, Cooper’s fianc�,” Veronica says. “Kurt, sweetie, this is Sally Bernstein, Cooper’s aunt.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms Bernstein,” Kurt gets out, and he holds out his hand for her to shake.
“None of that,” she scoffs, “Call me Sally.” And she bypasses his hand completely and gathers him up in a tight hug. Kurt jumps and flushes scarlet when he feels her hand travel downwards to squeeze his left buttock. It’s possible that he may also have let out a tiny squeak, because behind him Nigel Anderson lets out a deep chuckle, and Veronica tuts: “Sally, please!”
Sally finally lets him go, with one last squeeze, and Kurt looks around at the Andersons. It hits him how much they all look like each other; anyone would know they were related, that they were a family. Suddenly, he feels awkward and in the way.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your family visit. I didn’t know you’d be here now. I’ll… I’ll just come back later.”
“Nonsense, boy!” booms out Nigel, and Veronica, Sally and Blaine all protest as well, frowning, while Grandma looks mildly affronted.
“Don’t be stupid, kiddo!” she calls from the bed. “Come over here and give me a kiss.”
So Kurt obediently shuffles over to Grandma’s bed to say hello to her and possibly hide behind Nigel so that his bulky frame is blocking him from Sally’s view. Blaine’s sitting in the visitor’s chair, but he gets up and motions for Kurt to sit instead. Kurt gives him a grateful smile, because his legs feel distinctly wobbly.
Grandma grabs his hand and he looks up to find her smiling.
“We’re waiting to find out if I’ve been a good girl,” she confides. “They’re going to let me out today if my test results are good enough. That young doctor with the freckles said so.”
“That’s great news, Grandma.”
“It had better be,” she grumbles. “I’m not spending Christmas here. Not if I can help it.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine to go home,” Kurt tells her, squeezing her hand a little. ”You look like you could take on a small army, and your last results were really good, too, weren’t they?”
Grandma hums, but she’s still looking a little apprehensive when her doctor strides through the door, clipboard in one hand and a bunch of papers – presumably the test results – in the other. He greets them all with a friendly smile, introduces himself as Dr Walker, and then turns to Grandma.
“Well, Edith. The time has come for us to part, for even though our love is eternal, you must leave me.”
Grandma rolls her eyes, and Dr Walker chuckles.
“Your test results were fine,” he explains. “I can see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to go home today. Just be careful not to overdo it over Christmas. All those fatty, traditional dishes and all that.”
“Yeah, yeah, this isn’t my first check-up, you know,” she mutters, but she still allows Dr Walker to help her sit up on the bed.
After her release papers are signed, Dr Walker offers to update them on Cooper’s condition, so they all head to his room to see him. Kurt and Blaine end up standing in the back, but Kurt doesn’t mind. He already knows how Cooper is doing from the update he got yesterday, and he suspects the Andersons are equally up-to-date with his condition, but there is a sense of security in repetition, so Kurt doesn’t mind being told again how Cooper’s brain activity is good, the swelling gone down, and his bruises on the mend. Next to him, Blaine seems to think the same. When Dr Walker’s finished, and is answering questions from both Nigel and Sally, Blaine leans over.
“I was at Cooper’s flat the other day, looking for some papers for his insurance,” he whispers, “and I found a fresh jar of peanut butter in one of the cupboards, which was odd.”
“Oh, no, no, I put it there. There was almost nothing in the cupboards, so I brought back groceries,” Kurt whispers back. “Nothing perishable, of course, but just some things so that there’ll be something edible for when – when he gets back.”
“That’s really sweet of you.”
But Blaine isn’t smiling. Instead he’s giving Kurt a cool, calculating look. Kurt doesn’t know what to say, so says nothing, and when Dr Walker leaves after shaking Grandma’s hand, he has to fight the urge to follow him out the door.
The moment Dr Walker is gone, Blaine moves forward to stand by the bed.
“I found a jar of peanut butter in Cooper’s kitchen,” he says, louder this time.
“Peanut butter?” Veronica asks.
“But,” sputters Nigel.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Blaine,” sniffs Sally. “Why would Cooper have that?”
Blaine turns around so he’s facing Kurt.
“Yes, Kurt. Why would Cooper have peanut butter in his flat?” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft and dangerous.
Kurt feels the gazes of all three Andersons and Sally fix on him, and his voice comes out a little unsure.
“For if he wants a sandwich? I… I just thought if he came back to an empty flat, he could…” But he doesn’t finish his sentence because they’re all staring at him as if he’s mad. Well, except for Blaine who’s still giving him that calculating look.
“How very considerate. But, Kurt, Cooper is allergic to peanuts. He ate one when I was five and he ended up in hospital because of it. Half a spoonful of peanut butter would be enough to kill him. You would think that you, as his fianc�, would know that. I mean, we’re talking about a pretty severe and dangerous allergy, here. But you bought him a jar of peanut butter.”
Kurt feels like his whole face is about to fall off, and he can’t control his mouth, so he says nothing and tries to think.
“I talked to the doorman of his building. He’d never seen you before that day when I found you feeding the cat.”
“He’s new!” Kurt blurts out. He doesn’t know why he says it, but then – wonder of wonders – Blaine grimaces and nods.
“He may only have been there for about a month, but he has a memory for faces and he doesn’t remember you from before.”
“That’s because I wasn’t there before,” Kurt says. That, at least, is true. “I was very busy with work, and so was Cooper, and my flat was closer, so.”
Blaine looks thoroughly unconvinced.
“How convenient. That still doesn’t explain the peanut butter, though.”
“I… I didn’t know about that.” Kurt stammers.
“You didn’t know…” Blaine echoes, almost mockingly.
“Oh, Blaine, stop it,” Veronica interrupts.” The stupid boy didn’t even tell Sue about his allergy until she wanted him to do that snack commercial where he’d have to eat a chocolate bar with peanuts in it, and you saw the outrageous, detailed questionnaire he had to complete before she would take him on!”
“But – “Blaine begins.
“Enough!” Veronica snaps, looking torn between anger and mortification. “There’s no need to be so unpleasant, Blaine. If you have something to say, say it!”
Blaine squares his shoulders and looks first at his mother, then his father, and then, finally, at Kurt.
“Fine. I think it’s strange that Cooper’s never brought Kurt home, or even mentioned him to his family, especially since we’re supposed to believe they’re engaged. We have no proof that Kurt even knows Cooper.”
A shocked silence follows. Then Nigel clears his throat.
“We’ll talk after this, Blaine,” he says, and then he turns to Kurt, expression inscrutable. “Kurt, tell us about Cooper.”
“Um.”
Finally, Grandma pipes up: “Did he have a childhood pet?” and Kurt could kiss her, because he knows this, remembers seeing a photo with a scribbled note on the back.
“Yes,” he croaks out. “He had a dog. He was called… Max.”
Grandma nods.
“When’s his birthday?” inquires Sally, but before Kurt can open his mouth, Blaine cuts him off.
“No. Anyone could find that out. It has to be something else.” He gives Kurt a shrewd look. “Tell us why Cooper hates Oreos so much.”
But that doesn’t make sense. Kurt remembers going through Cooper’s kitchen and coming across a veritable stash. Blaine must be bluffing.
“He doesn’t,” Kurt says. “He loves them. They’re his favourite.”
Grandma smiles, but it’s small and forced-looking, and Blaine looks like he doesn’t know what to believe. He opens his mouth again, but before he can say anything, Nigel booms: “Enough! This is ridiculous. They obviously know each other. Let it go, Blaine.”
“Yes, well, I know things about Kurt but that doesn’t make me his fianc�,” Blaine retorts.
“Blaine!” Veronica chastises.
“But it doesn’t prove – “
“Cooper only has one testicle,” Kurt blurts out.
A ringing silence follows. Then…
“Ha!” Blaine calls, triumphant. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
But Kurt has finally had enough. He’s nervous, stressed and angry, and he just wants to go home and curl up in bed, so, frankly, Blaine can take his Spanish Inquisition and get lost.
“If you don’t believe me,” he says, voice steely, “you can check.”
“You know what; I will, just so I can say with absolute certainty that you’re a fraud.”
He strides over to the bed, lifts the covers and pulls the hospital gown up. And stares.
“I…”
Kurt counts five very measured, calming breaths, then looks Blaine straight in the eye.
“It happened last year. There was an accident involving a crossbow bolt. He was practising for a role.”
“Kurt,” Blaine breathes out, but Kurt straightens his back and glares at him.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a really long day, so I’m going home. Goodnight.”
And he turns around and walks out.

His hands won’t stop shaking the whole way home. He drops his keys twice before he manages to unlock the door, but then he’s finally, blessedly, home. He takes three steps, sinks down on his old couch, and cries.